


See Where You Hide

by Frenchibi



Series: Fics with Pain [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Coming Out, Crying, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, happy end (of sorts), post college AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: "Iwa-chan?""Got cold," Hajime mumbles - but it's feeble, and oh, oh, something is terribly wrong."Are you-" Tooru tries to pull back, but Hajime's arms are holding him in place. "...are you crying?"





	1. Let Me Look In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> _Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes_   
>  _Hold back the river so I_   
>  _Can stop for a minute and see where you[hide](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqiH0ZSkM9I)_

Hajime is quiet.

It's not unusual, they like to spend quiet evenings reading, or in each other's arms, immersed in thought - but this is different. It feels strange, heavy. Like there's something hanging between them that Hajime hasn't said, and it's making the air heavy.

Tooru knows better than to push, because Hajime never hides things from him for long. So he sits in the armchair, legs crossed with a book resting in his lap, and he waits.

"...hey, Oikawa?"

His voice is leveled, controlled - soft.

"Hm?"

"...come over here?"

Tooru looks up, over to where Hajime is sitting on the couch. He's been reading the same passage over and over, anyway, so he doesn't pay attention as he closes the book and sets it aside.

"Okay...?"

He's not sure where Hajime is going with this, but gets to his feet and pads over to him, stopping when their knees touch. "What's up?"

Hajime's smile is slightly clouded, but Tooru isn't sure by what. He doesn't say anything, but he reaches up for Tooru's hands and tugs.

"...want me to sit with you?"

Hajime nods, and Tooru tilts his head a little, surprised. Hajime's not the one to initiate cuddling, not usually. "Uhm-"

"Please?"

He blinks at that, snapping himself out of his confusion. Something is definitely wrong.

"Uh- yeah, sure. Of course," he says, still a little flustered, and lets Hajime pull him down into his lap. Tooru's a little unsure about how Hajime wants to do this, but he seems to have a plan - he adjusts their position so Tooru is sitting on top of him, with his legs off to the side, and shifts them around until Tooru's head rests against his shoulder.

"...Iwa-chan-"

"Just- please," Hajime says, quietly this time, and Tooru swears he hears his voice tremble a little bit. Carefully, he tugs his arm free from between their chests so he can wrap it around Hajime's waist and pull himself closer, tucking his head under Hajime's chin.

"...is everything okay?"

Hajime doesn't answer, but Tooru can feel his lips pressing against the top of his head.

"Iwa-chan?"

"Got cold," Hajime mumbles - but it's feeble, and oh, oh, something is terribly wrong.

"Are you-" Tooru tries to pull back, but Hajime's arms are holding him in place. "...are you crying?"

The shaky breath Hajime lets out, followed by the tiniest of sniffling sounds, is more than enough of an answer. Tooru immediately feels fear cage in around his heart, and it's like the temperature of the room drops by ten degrees.

"Hey- what's wrong? Hajime?"

Hajime shakes his head and tightens his grip, shuddering as he takes another deep breath. He rarely ever cries - Tooru can count the instances he's seen Hajime's tears off on one hand - and the longer they sit in silence, the more terrified Tooru becomes.

He tries to keep his own shaking in check, starting to gently run his hands up and down Hajime's back. It's what Hajime does for him whenever he's upset, and to Tooru, there's nothing more comforting than that.

Hajime's grip only seems to tighten, and Tooru can't focus on anything but his heavy, shaky breathing. Whatever it is that's got Hajime this worked up-

"S-sorry," he gasps, between gasps for air, "I'm s-sorry, Tooru-"

And Tooru says the only thing he can, the only thing that's left; "it's okay. Hey, h-hey. I'm right here, love. It's okay."

With a whimper, Hajime curls down over him, burying his face in Tooru's shoulder. "Sorry," he manages again, and "please, please, just-"

"Anything you need," Tooru whispers, and it's all he can do to sound steady. "It's okay - Hajime, I've got you, it's okay-"

"D-don't let go, please-"

His voice is starting to break, and nothing has ever hurt more than hearing him sound so _helpless_.

"I won't, I won't, I've got you-"

Hajime's tears are dampening his shirt, and the thought alone makes Tooru's heart clench in his chest.

"Just, p-please-"

Tooru tightens his grip, a sudden, fierce protectiveness flaring up inside him. He's still terrified because Hajime won't tell him what's _wrong_ , but it someone hurt him-

Whoever made him feel this way is going to _pay_.

"I promise," he whispers, but his voice has regained its edge, and the fear is fading under new-found adrenaline. "I promise, I've got you, and I'm not letting go. It's okay."

Hajime whimpers again, and he sounds so _small_ , curling up even more around Tooru's warmth with his breath still hitching violently.

Tooru presses tiny kisses to his hair, feeling every harsh gasp of air Hajime draws in against his chest, where he's buried himself now.

"Breathe with me," he whispers, remembering how that always calms him, how Hajime's presence alone and the sound of his heartbeat would keep him sane whenever he was close to losing himself. It's usually the other way around, Tooru falling apart and Hajime keeping him grounded, and Tooru realizes with a sharp twinge of guilt the fear and worry Hajime must feel every time this happens, every time he has to talk Tooru down from the brink of self-destruction.

Hajime manages a shaky nod, just once, but it's enough.

Tooru deliberately slows his breathing, brushing his hands up and down Hajime's back in time with it. Hajime is so, so tense, clamping up against whatever it is that has him so utterly broken, blocking out everything - but then he draws a deep breath, just a little out of sync with Tooru's, and another-

"...so good," Tooru whispers, "you're doing so good, Hajime, keep going-"

He can feel Hajime's fingers digging into his sides now, twisting into his shirt and holding on as tightly as possible as he forces deeper breaths, larger intakes of air and longer exhales. Tooru's hands still, he lowers them to wrap around Hajime's waist and hold him close, pressing down and burying his face in Hajime's hair. He dips lower, trailing kisses towards his ear and neck, and the relief he feels when Hajime slowly, slowly tilts his head to expose more of his skin falls off his chest like a gigantic rock off the edge of a cliff.

"...that's it," he murmurs, "deep breaths, it's okay-"

"I love you," Hajime gasps, suddenly, finding his voice, "I l-love you, Tooru. So m-much."

And why does it sound so _final_ , like he's saying goodb-

"Oh, _oh_ , Hajime... you called them?"

Hajime shudders into a fresh wave of tears, and "no, no, I w-wouldn't, b-but... they called, a-and she s-said he wanted to t-talk, and-"

Tooru's arms come up around his back again, fiercely this time. "Hajime-"

He feels Hajime's fingernails breaking his skin, but those pricks of pain are nothing compared to what Hajime must be feeling, so all Tooru does is pull him closer, hold him tighter.

"I t-told her I can't, I t-told her to l-leave me alone but she- she- she c-cried so much and I just-"

Tooru knows, then, even before Hajime says it.

"I lied," he breathes, and it's like the world is crumbling around them. "I l-lied because I'm a coward, and when we g-go back I have to p-pretend like I don't love you, like you're not my entire universe-"

"Hajime-"

"I m-miss them, a-and I want to be h-honest about us, but... I can't, s-so I told her w-we're not together anymore, and w-when we go back I h-have to- I have to p-pretend-"

The embrace is no longer enough, Hajime is falling, falling, and Tooru needs to look at him _right now_ , needs him to _see_ , so he brings both hands up to Hajime's shoulders and pushes him back, harder than he wants to but Hajime wouldn't move otherwise, he's already so lost and clinging to Tooru like he's the only thing keeping him alive.

"I'm so s-sorry, Tooru, I l-love you, I love-"

"Stop," he tells him, doing his best to sound firm, sure. "Stop. Hajime, stop. Look at me."

But Hajime squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head, pushes against Tooru's grip to get back into his arms, where he can hide his face, hide from the world-

"Hajime. I need you to hear this. _Look at me._ "

He's raised his voice, and something in his tone makes Hajime snap to attention, eyes flying open. It leaves a bitter taste in Tooru's mouth, because the expression on his face is now full of fear; the submission doesn't suit him one bit.

"Hajime," he says, quieter, gentler but with no less urgency, "Hajime, Hajime. Listen- no, please, _please_ , look at me. Believe me. You don't have to make a _choice_. I promise you. You hear me? I _promise._ "

Hajime is shaking again, reaching for Tooru, fingers skating frantically up the skin of his arms to his neck, his face, like he needs to feel him to know that he's real.

"Tooru," he whimpers, "I c-can't lose you, I can't risk- ...I can't t-tell them- ...what if I can never t-tell them? Wh-what if they m-make me get married to one of those g-girls they keep wanting me to meet-"

"You're not leaving me," Tooru says, and this time he's not faking the certainty. He knows what the problem is, now, and what Hajime thinks he has to do. "I won't let go, just like I said. Just like I promised. You won't lose me, not ever, and I'm not letting you leave. And you don't have to keep lying."

"I c-can't tell them the truth-"

"You don't have to keep lying," Tooru repeats. "They won't slam the door in your face, and they won't push you away. We're going to be okay. I _promise_."

"Y-you can't know that, sh-she was so relieved w-when I s-said I didn't- I didn't-"

But he can't seem to say it again, the mere thought of it making him choke on the air he's sucking into his lungs.

"Trust me," Tooru says, imploring, "we'll- we'll go and confront them, okay? We'll make this stop. We'll tell them how we really feel."

Hajime shakes his head, quickly, sharply, "we c-can't, I l-lied-"

Tooru lifts his hands to the sides of Hajime's face, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"There's an end to this, Hajime," he says. "It won't be easy, but you can't know if they'll hate you, either. You can't keep pretending for your entire life. I know you've been hiding this from me, how much this was hurting you. But you don't need to suffer alone, okay? And you don't need to leave me. Not ever."

Tooru's expression softens, even though Hajime is still staring back with nothing but wild terror in his eyes. He brushes Hajime's cheek with his thumb before moving closer, until he can press his lips against his forehead. "We can get out, love. You don't need to keep running anymore. You've got me, and together we're stronger than anything. Isn't- isn't that what you always tell me?"

Hajime shudders, letting out a breath that seems to take all his energy with it, and he slumps forwards, back into Tooru's arms.

"...'ru, Tooru, Tooru... I'm s-sorry-"

"Shhh, it's okay."

Hajime is still shaking his head, "it's not, we c-can't-"

"We can do anything, love, including this. We'll fight this and we'll win, just like we do with anything that stands in our way. We'll _conquer_."

"Y-you didn't hear her-"

Tooru leans down and captures his lips in a kiss, brief but firm. "We're stronger," he whispers, into the tiniest of spaces left between them, pressing their foreheads together. "You'll see."

Hajime shakes his head, and there's a sadness rolling off him that's more profound than any other emotion Tooru has felt from him yet. His tears have stopped, but this is worse. "I can't risk it."

Tooru takes the time to breathe, to face him head-on, like he's always done. "I won't force you," he says, quiet and sincere, "but I know this will break you, if you try to keep it up. You need to let me in, let me carry some of this weight before it crushes you."

"T-they're not your parents, you don't have to-"

"Hajime, they're practically parents to me, too. You know that."

He does, Tooru can see it in his eyes, even when they're this close. He _knows_.

His chest rises and falls, until-

"God, Tooru, I'm s-sorry-"

"No more apologies," Tooru says, and he manages a smile. It's not much, just a tiny hint at the corners of his mouth - but it's enough. "Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why this happened. I hope to resolve it soon.  
> Find me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com), though I'm on something like a hiatus there atm while I try to sort a few things out - mainly my thesis which is due soon. I will answer messages sporadically, though. I'm always happy to hear from you.


	2. Stop for a minute and be by your side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to heal when you keep looking back. 
> 
> _I miss them_ , Hajime had said. How do you miss something that hurts you so much?

The trip home is mostly silent.

Tooru knows that Hajime isn't one to express his fears that often - he doesn't casually talk about his emotions, doesn't wear them on his sleeve like Tooru does, and Tooru knows that it's not because he's not comfortable expressing them. He can be sincere, he can admit to failure and fear and regret, just as easily as words of affection slip from his lips when they're alone, curled up against one another, hidden from the world. He doesn't shy away from showing what he feels.

No, Hajime holds back most of his negative thoughts and feelings because he knows Tooru will react strongly to them, and he doesn't want him to worry. He'll go weeks, months without mentioning something he's afraid might make Tooru nervous or uncomfortable. He shoulders everything alone, because his first instinct is to protect Tooru. It's always been.

Tooru knows this, sees it, feels it in the way Hajime looks at him, in the way he acts when they're alone and when they have company. He's probably always known, somehow, that Hajime will always throw out his arms and take the blow for him, in whatever shape or form. It started small, and so, so long ago, with little Hajime protecting Tooru from beetles and large dogs and the monsters under his bed, his hand always within reach when Tooru needed someone to hold on to. He'd never thought to question, then, if Hajime might be afraid of something, too.

Hajime carries his burdens until they disappear - like his fear of the dark, to which he confessed years and years after it had stopped being a problem, leaving Tooru to understand so many childhood memories better, in retrospect, and sink into guilt and regret for not knowing, not being able to help.

This method - Hajime's method, and by extension Tooru's, can't keep being the only option.

Tooru is glad that now, Hajime trusts him enough to be there when he does break down - it's better now than it used to be, with doors slamming and angry yells of "why don't you ever trust me?!" - Hajime has learned to trust him, and Tooru is grateful for that.

He just wishes he'd trust him before it's already too late.

With a sigh, he shuts down that thought. He will have to confront Hajime about this eventually - but not now. Not now, while the train is rattling along its tracks, steadily carrying them closer and closer to home.

Home.

A conflicting place, now, filled with conflicting emotions and memories. Happy ones, yes, memories that fill his body with warmth and comfort - and devastating ones, ones that make Tooru's chest tighten in apprehension before he even lets them bubble up to the surface. Memories that make his fists clench in rage and disgust, memories that twist his insides in fear and regret.

Tooru finds himself looking at Hajime more than anything else; more than at the scenery passing by outside, the sky clearer than ever, almost too perfect - more than the inside of the compartment, the striped seat covers and the luggage rack where their suitcase rattles along with the train, knocking against the wood panelling of the walls with every shift of the tracks.

He lets his gaze wander, out the window, down to his hands, fingers twisting in his lap, but it always seems to gravitate back to where Hajime is sitting beside him, legs crossed loosely at the ankles, leaning back in his seat in a forced sort of calmness, broken only by the slight shaking of his hands.

Tooru wishes it were easier for Hajime to trust him, to let him in - to let him carry part of this burden with him.

He'd meant what he'd said - _they're practically parents to me, too._ Hajime's pain isn't hard for Tooru to understand; he'd never thought that the people who helped raise him, the people who opened their home and their hearts to him, who had made him feel safe and welcome and warm, would ever look at him (or at Hajime, at their _son_ ) in disgust.

It's impossible to forget, and so, so hard to forgive. Tooru found himself, on more than one occasion, ready to close off and never speak to them again - it's what he and Hajime agreed on, after trying, _trying_ , trying so hard to make them see that their hatred is unfounded, their disgust hurtful and the distance they've put between a young man and all he's known, all his memories and hopes and dreams is crushing him. They'd agreed, he and Hajime, to stop trying.

But Hajime has never wanted the rift that their choices, his choices have caused. Even when he'd been the one to suggest they stop trying, Tooru had been able to see that it wasn't what he truly wanted.

He'd agreed, because he couldn't bear to keep seeing the man he loved suffer. He'd agreed, hoping for an end that could be followed by healing.

It's hard to heal when you keep looking back.

 _I miss them_ , Hajime had said. How do you miss something that hurts you so much?

Tooru knows it's not that, he knows. He misses them too. Enough to be sitting on this train with Hajime, ready to give them yet another chance.

Hajime's knuckles are white from the pressure he's putting on his hands in an effort to keep them still, and Tooru finally manages to reach over and cover them with his own.

He doesn't say anything - at this point, words won't help. Instead, he pries Hajime's shaking fingers apart with his own, sliding his hand between them and lacing their fingers together. Hajime doesn't unclench, but he's not fighting it, either. He lets it happen, eyes fixed straight ahead, as if the stain on the seat opposite him is the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

Intense focus. He's trying not to cry.

Tooru wants, desperately, to tell him everything will be fine. But he's promised not to lie, and empty hope won't help anyone. There's no way of knowing. The only thing he can be certain of is the ache in his chest, and the endless, boundless love that ties him to the man clutching helplessly at his hand.

He closes his eyes and holds on.

~

It's Hajime's mother who opens the door.

In an effort to rip off the band-aid, this is their first stop. Fix this, or end it, once and for all.

Hajime's hand clenches around Tooru's as his mother looks them up and down, eyes lingering on their hands for longer than necessary. This is the first test.

She looks tired, Tooru thinks, worn out and weary. She's looking at them and her face is impassive, exhausted-

"Hajime," she says, and throws her arms around him.

Hajime stumbles back, letting go of Tooru's hand to catch her, and Tooru knows he's crying even before he sees it. _This is all he wants. For her to love him._

Tooru says nothing as she cups his face in her hands and kisses his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, her eyes glistening as well.

"Oh, darling, I've missed you so much," she says, breathless, _happy_. Tooru almost believes it, the carefree, welcoming atmosphere. But he knows this can't be it, knows from painful, first-hand experience.

She detaches from her son and surveys Tooru, a smile on her face that isn't quite wide enough to take the worry from her eyes.

"Tooru, dear, it's been way too long." And then she's hugging him, too, pulling him close and ruffling his hair.

Like the last time they'd seen each other, she hadn't been screaming at Hajime to leave and never come back.

To be fair, Tooru knows she didn't mean it. Not really. He knows that her love for her son is stronger than her fear and disgust for a concept she's been taught to hate, a love she's been conditioned never to accept.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less.

Tooru opens his mouth, not sure yet if he wants to draw attention to it, break the spell - but he sees Hajime's face, the small, pained smile, and he leaves it be. Maybe, he thinks (foolishly, idealistically), it will be okay after all.

"It's lovely to see you," he says, and manages a smile.

She squeezes his shoulders, and her smile feels a bit more genuine now. There's a second, maybe slightly longer, where they're just watching one another - and then she pats his shoulder, once, briskly, and snaps out of it.

"Come in, come in," she says, a little breathless, ushering them inside with a flourish of hands and "don't worry about your luggage, I've got it!"

She bustles around them, offering instructions on where to leave their shoes and coats, like this is the first time they've entered this house. (Like both Hajime and Tooru don't know their way around it blind and backwards.) It feels foreign, impersonal. Strange.

"Come, come sit, I was just making lunch and I was hoping you'd be in time-"

She cuts off when they reach the dining room, faltering a little in her step.

Hajime's father looks up from his newspaper, reading glasses perched low on his nose. Tooru's blood runs cold.

"Ah," Hajime's father says, and lowers the paper. He offers a small, toneless smile, and Tooru feels Hajime tense beside him.

"Dad," he says, stiffly.

Hajime's father surveys them for a moment, eyeing the distance between him and Tooru, and then the single suitcase in his wife's hands.

"I see you've made it," he says finally, tone neutral. Waiting.

"It's good to be back," Hajime says, like he's answering a _welcome home_.

Tooru's mind is flooded by a memory, unbidden and immediate, of little, six-year-old Hajime, who drops his school bag in the hall (spilling the contents everywhere, though he really couldn't care less) and sprints into the dining room, Tooru hot on his heels, and leaps right into his father's (slightly surprised) arms. _"Dad, dad, you'll never guess what happened today!"_

He clenchs his eyes shut for a moment, willing the image to go away, and the echoes of laughter to fade.

"I see you've brought your best friend."

It's careful, still. Guarded. Tooru knows he thinks he's being generous. _I'm willing to overlook this_ , he hears, in the infliction. _For the sake of family peace. This is my offer._

Tooru wants to spit in his face.

"Hi," he says instead, and offers a smile. _This is mine._

"You know you're always welcome here, Tooru." A smile in response. Cold.

Hajime's mother claps her hands together, breaking the tension.

"Well go ahead, sit down, boys! Dear, would you help me set the table...?"

His father gets to his feet and stops pinning Tooru down with his gaze as he turns his attention to folding his newspaper, removing his glasses as he tucks it under his arm.

"Make yourselves comfortable," he says, and Tooru has never felt more uncomfortable in his life.

Only once Hajime's parents have left the room, he feels like he can even draw breath. He sits, as instructed, and Hajime follows suit. His hand finds Tooru's under the table.

"I'll tell them," he says, eyes fixed on the door.

"...are you sure?" Tooru asks. _They gave you an offer._

Hajime squeezes his hand. _I choose you._

"...even if they throw you out again?"

Hajime turns to face him, so Tooru can see the conviction in his expression. "All or nothing," he says. "No me without you."

It's reassuring, but it also stirs fear, deep in his gut. Trepidation.

Hajime's mother comes bustling back into the room, breaking the tension yet again, and Hajime drops his hand. _For now_ , Tooru can't help but think. _For now._

~

It's Hajime's father who breaks it.

They make polite conversation while they eat; Hajime's mother asks about work, about their friends, delight in her face when she hears that one of Tooru's colleagues is pregnant. She asks about volleyball, and Tooru can feel Hajime unclench beside him, ever so slightly.

And then, Hajime's father drops the bomb. Because implying his relief isn't enough.

"I'm glad to see you've come to your senses, Hajime."

Hajime tenses. "About what?"

His father waves his hand at him and Tooru in a throwaway gesture. "Your little... experiment."

"Ah," Hajime says. Tooru sees his mother's excitement slide right off her face. "...about that, actually."

His father shakes his head. "There's nothing left to say, is there? It's over now. And you'll be happy to know that your mother has been speaking to one of her colleagues lately who has a daughter your age-"

"I do have something to say," Hajime cuts in. Tooru braces himself, knowing Hajime will reach for his hand again before he does. Their fingers joined, he raises both their hands above the table and rests them on it, out in the open.

Hajime's father's expression turns icy.

"Your mother told me what you said on the phone, boy. That you regret it. That it was a mistake." There's not a semblance of warmth left.

If there ever was any to begin with.

"I want you to listen to me, because I will only be saying this once," Hajime says. His mother is shaking her head ever so slightly, imploring him to stop, pleading with her eyes - but Hajime's gaze is fixed on his father.

"I did say that. It was a lie."

There's the scraping of a chair against wood, and Hajime's father is on his feet, eyes darkening in anger.

"How dare you-"

"I'm sick of lying," Hajime says. "I want you to be a part of my life - that's why I'm here." He turns his head, catching his mother's gaze. "I'm here because you begged me to come home, mom."

"Hajime, please-"

"Tooru and I, we're engaged."

It's out before Tooru can protest or cut in - Hajime sits tall beside him, shoulders set, the picture of determination if it weren't for the way his hand is trembling in Tooru's. But he's said it, and Tooru knows that coming here together gave him the strength to admit the truth. A deep rush of gratitude wells up in his chest, and he squeezes Hajime's fingers.

"...we're done here," Hajime's father says, both hands braced on the tabletop. He looks ready to start yelling at the slightest resistance, and Tooru feels his insides clench up yet again-

But then Hajime stands, too, and the fear is replaced with a fierce kind of pride.

He used to shrink back.

Not anymore.

"Apparently we are," he says, and Tooru stands up as well.

Hajime glances from his father to his mother, who has gotten to her feet as well and taken a slight step back.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Oh, you should be. You come here, and you have the audacity-"

"I'm not sorry for who I am," Hajime says, raising his voice and cutting his father off. "I will never apologize for loving Tooru, because he is the best thing in my life. I will never lie to you about my feelings again - I've been lying for way too long, anyway."

He gives Tooru's hand a quick squeeze before he lets it go and steps away from the table, closer to his mother. She looks like she's ready to cry.

"Hajime-"

"I won't apologize for not being who you want to force me to be. I won't apologize for choosing my own path."

Hajime's father is also moving around the table, to stand in front of his wife - like he's shielding her, almost, and Tooru is startled at the thought.

"One more word, boy, and I'll-"

"I am sorry, though," Hajime says, turning to face his father in an act of blatant disobedience that Tooru _knows_ takes an inordinate amount of courage. "I'm sorry you can't love me unless I'm lying."

"Out," Hajime's father says, and his voice is low and dangerous. "Out of my house. Now."

Hajime's mother looks like she wants to object - or maybe just speak to her son for a moment, but his father is blocking her off. She lets out a soft sob, quiet and heartbreaking, and Tooru's hands clench into fists. He's powerless here and he knows it, but he's never wished more for things to be different. Hajime deserves better than this.

But Hajime nods, like this is the most rational course of action. Like he was expecting it.

_Like he'd known this would happen._

Something inside Tooru breaks, because oh, _oh_. His hope was a front. A wall.

And maybe Hajime hadn't built it to protect himself.

"Goodbye," Hajime says, and how he manages to not sound like he's on the verge of tears, Tooru will never know.

_You deserve the world._

Hajime turns, lacing their fingers together again, and walks away. He doesn't look back, even as his shoulders start to shake.

The only sound that follows them is the slamming of a door.

~

She catches up to them halfway down the road. Her hair is falling out of its bun, and she's not wearing shoes, but Hajime stills at the sound of her voice.

"Hajime - wait-"

Tooru lets go of his hand to watch a mother embrace her son for the second time that day, and he can't help but feel that despite everything, despite the finality of the conversation before, this is the gesture that's more sincere. It's messy, her face still streaked with tears, but her grip is much, much tighter now than it was earlier, and she refuses to let go for the longest time.

And Hajime - Hajime buries his face in her shoulder and pulls her close.

"Mom," he says, fragile and small, and it breaks Tooru's heart.

Eventually, they pull apart, and she reaches for both their hands. "Don't be strangers," she whispers, and Tooru has to fight back a bitter laugh. _What else are we supposed to be, after this?_

"Mom-"

"I want you to be happy," she says, smiling through her tears. "Oh, darling, that's all I ever wanted. And if- if this makes you happy-"

She shakes her head, shoulders slumping. _She looks tired_ , Tooru thinks again, _so, so tired._

"Give him time. Please, please give him time," she whispers. "He loves you, too."

"He doesn't understand," Hajime says, and finally he's not hiding the pain anymore. (Tooru isn't sure that's a good thing, considering the way his stomach drops at the sound of it.)

"Give him time."

"How much more am I supposed to give?"

Tooru steps closer, then, because he can't take it. He wraps his arm around Hajime's waist, and immediately feels him leaning into the touch, like it's the only thing that's real. It grounds him, grounds them both.

"Our door is always open," Tooru says. Because this is all they can give. This is all they can offer. "But we're not coming back."

Hajime draws a shuddering breath beside him, but it's not sadness he's letting go, nor anger. It's gratitude.

His mother looks at them, standing side by side, always each other's pillars of strength. She must remember, Tooru thinks, must be thinking of two young boys with excitement in their eyes and fire in their hearts, and scratches all over their knees and elbows. She must be comparing them to what she's seeing now.

Maybe she's not the only one who looks tired.

"I love you," she says, and she means both of them. She means all of them.

Tooru stops fighting the tears.

 

It's hard, leaving her behind in the middle of the street in her socks, tear tracks drying on her face. _Give it time_.

Hajime pulls Tooru close as they walk, leaning in to wipe his face on his shoulder with a breathless chuckle. It's hard - but it also feels like a weight has been lifted. _Give it time_.

Tooru doesn't know how much time they have to give. No one does.

What he does know, though, as he squeezes Hajime's hand - dragging their suitcase behind him through the rows of houses, towards the other place he used to call home, towards a door he knows will be open without question - is that this is the truth he wants to live with. _I choose you. I choose to stop lying._

He knows that truth and lies are in the eye of the beholder, as is everything else, really. But even so, it's the most reassuring thing to knows that in this, in the matter of Tooru and Hajime, Hajime and Tooru, the two of them are on the same side.

Even if they're against the world - this truth is theirs. They've got each other. And that's what matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @jullie, who reminded me that I still had this unfinished sad fic. You said you'd like to see me write angst? Well.
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com) \- and/or... please do leave comments and tell me what you thought. This is new territory for me. Feel free to tell me to stick to fluff if this didn't feel right.


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